


I Want Your Heart, Baby (Straight, No Chaser)

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: renlylorasfest, Falling In Love, Fluff, Haircuts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt "Loras works as a hairdresser, Renly is a costumer who keeps coming back even though he hardly has any hair left to be cut." at the <a href="http://renlylorasfest.livejournal.com/">renlylorasfest</a> Happy Endings Comment Fest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want Your Heart, Baby (Straight, No Chaser)

Renly gets back to the country and the first time he has a free minute, he calls his hairdresser's. "Hello," the voice on the other end says, "A Cut Above."

"Arya?" Of all the people to answer that phone, Arya Stark would have been his last guess.

"Renly? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, what are you doing answering the phone?"

"Getting through uni," she says. It sounds as if she's rolling her eyes. "Mum needed a part-time receptionist. Don't worry, it's all part of my world domination plan."

Renly laughs. "I've missed you. How've you been?"

"Fine, but did you call for an appointment? Mum's doing the intense eyes at me."

"I did, yes. My hair is in dire need of cutting, is Sansa free this week?"

"No, sorry, she's booked up until next month. She's getting really popular. I can book you in with L'Oreas."

"Who?"

Arya laughs. "Sorry. Loras. He's new. We call him L'Oreas because of his perfect hair, it's like an advert."

"And did you mention I hate it?" says a male voice in the background. Arya laughs.

"He's free on Wednesday at three," she says. "It's just a cut you want, right?"

"Yes. Thanks." He pauses. "I can't believe Catelyn actually got you to work there. You wouldn't even go _in_ there before I left."

"Yeah, well, needs must when you're living on ASDA pizzas and your dad has a big thing about personal financial responsibility. I'll see you on Wednesday."

Renly gets to the salon early. Arya lights up when she sees him, and comes out from behind the desk when he says, "Do you have a hug for your old Uncle Renly?" She's still tall and lanky, the very image of Ned, and hugs him swiftly.

Once, when she was thirteen and had got drunk for the first time and called him to pick her up, she'd said, "You're my favourite uncle. I know you're not really my uncle, but you're still my favourite." She'd leaned back, eyes unfocused, and said, "Don't tell Brandon." He'd laughed and fed her more coffee, but he'd been even more fond of her ever since.

He sits down to wait, smiling at Catelyn, who's busy with a customer. Sansa finishes with one, and as the woman is paying, Renly says, "Hi, Sansa."

She blushes. "Hi, Renly. I'm sorry I'm so busy this time."

"Clearly the people of this town are finally realising what a brilliant hairdresser you are," he grins. She goes even redder and mumbles a thanks, leading her next waiting customer over to a chair.

Renly's eyes follow them, and that's when he sees the hottest man in the universe. "Wow," he whispers.

Arya looks, and laughs. "That's Loras." She looks back at Renly, who is having difficulty taking his eyes off Loras. Beautiful brown curls frame an unbelievably gorgeous face. He's concentrating as he cuts a customer's hair, the expression giving him a sense of gravitas. "He's single, by the way," Arya continues. "And gay."

"What?" Renly blinks and tears himself away.

Arya grins. "Your tongue's practically on the floor. Sansa was the same when he showed up. I suppose he is fit." She shrugs. "Anyway, I bet her a fiver he'd turn out to be gay. Should have bet her a tenner really, then I could've gone to the Foo Fighters concert."

Renly hadn't even realised how much he's missed the Stark girls. "I'll take you next time they're touring. As long as you don't tell your dad. He might think I'm spoiling you." He grins.

"So how was Australia?" Arya says, when another customer has paid and left, and Doreah has collected her next one.

"Hot," Renly says. "I decided to be all mountain man about it and grow a beard. I'll upload the pictures when I've finished unpacking."

Arya laughs. "Bet you looked ridiculous."

"Of course I did," Renly says, laughing. "They weren't too happy with me at the Embassy."

Arya drops her chin on her hand and is about to say something else when Loras walks over with his customer. Renly swallows and stands up, hovering nervously as the customer pays and, with a last word of encouragement, Loras smiles at her and she leaves. He keeps the smile when he turns to Renly, but it gets brighter. "Are you my three o'clock?"

_I'll be your anything_ , Renly manages to refrain from saying. "Yes," he says instead. "Um, Renly, Renly Baratheon."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Loras. Don't listen to any of the nicknames these ladies have come up with for me," he says, grinning and leading Renly over to a seat. "What can I do you for?"

Renly needs a moment to collect himself. "Er," he says. "Just a cut. I've been away for a while, decided to grow my hair long, but ..." he trails off.

"Time to go short again?" Loras says, and Renly nods. "How short were you thinking?"

"I don't know. Usually I just let Sansa work her magic."

"Well, I can work mine, if you'd like," Loras says, sifting Renly's hair through his hands.

"Yes, thanks," Renly says. Loras's fingers in his hair feels better than it should.

Loras leads him over to the sinks and puts a towel around his shoulders. "So where did you go?"

"Australia," Renly says. "I work for the British Embassy, they sent me there for six months."

"Sounds like an exciting job," Loras says, wetting Renly's hair.

"It is," Renly says, his public face on. No one wants to hear that jet-setting around the world isn't all it's cracked up to be, when you have to deal with endlessly complicated political systems in dozens of countries, not to mention personally hostile beurocrats.

"Stressful, though, I bet," Loras says. Renly looks backwards and up at him, and he smiles. "All that red tape."

"Yeah," Renly says. His public face cracks and he settles back again, eyes closing as Loras works shampoo into his scalp.

"Is your hair actually black?" Loras says, when he's rinsing.

"Yeah," Renly says. He's starting to properly relax. "I get it from my dad's side."

"You don't often see black hair," Loras says. "It's usually just really dark brown that people mistake for black."

"I was thinking of dyeing it at some point," Renly says.

"Don't you dare," Loras protests. "You've got gorgeous hair, you leave it be."

Renly laughs. "You've only known it five minutes and already you're protective." Loras switches the water off and Renly sits up.

"Well, it's gorgeous," Loras repeats, leading him back over to the chair. Renly sits down and catches his own expression in the mirror. He looks far too pleased, but can't seem to stop smiling.

"Thanks," he says. "Arya wasn't wrong about your hair, either." Ringlets tumble artfully over his forehead, delicately framing his ears. Renly keeps wanting to touch them, sure they'll be soft.

Loras grins. "I'd be a terrible stylist if I had less than excellent hair." He starts combing Renly's and picks up one of the pairs of scissors on the counter.

Renly watches his face as Loras switches his concentration to the scissors and comb in his hand. "So what was the best thing about Australia?" he says. Renly's always been amazed at Sansa's ability to concentrate on what she's doing and carry on a lengthy conversation in small talk at the same time. Evidently, Loras has the same talent.

"Probably the reef," Renly says. "On my days off I'd go scuba diving, the fish there are amazing."

"I've always wanted to go scuba diving," Loras says, while closing the scissors. A lock of Renly's hair falls onto the gown. "My brother Will goes sometimes, when the instructors aren't being awful." Renly tries not to tilt his head, but can't quite stop himself. Loras puts it back into position and smiles. "He's got a paralysed leg, people can be startlingly crap about it."

"Ah," Renly says. "Yeah, there's a guy at work who has something wrong with his legs. He's got dwarfism too. Some people are right knobs to him."

"Ugh," Loras says, cutting in a perfect line. "Don't get me started, I'll get onto the ATOS protests and then I'll be too angry to keep my hands still."

Renly smiles. "I'll change the subject, shall I?"

"For the sake of your hair if nothing else," Loras says, smiling. There's a warmth in his eyes as they meet Renly's in the mirror. Renly's breath catches.

"So when did you know you wanted to be a hairdresser?" he says, and Loras laughs.

"When I was five," he says. "I've always been close to my little sister — the next oldest brother before me is five years older, and Margaery's only a year younger than me, so we always played together. She had all these dolls, and our favourite game was that we'd do their hair." He grins. "I don't normally tell people this, by the way. I'm trusting you to keep the secret."

"I wouldn't dream of telling anyone," Renly says, grinning. Loras grins back in the mirror and switches sides of his head.

"I knew I was gay not long after," he says, tone carefully light. Too carefully; Renly's heart skips a beat, because Loras is looking intently at his hair and there was the smallest something in his voice, like he's testing Renly out. It's more than there'd usually be with any new person.

"Yeah? I didn't even know I was gay until I was fifteen and all my mates couldn't stop talking about girls. I just wanted Han Solo to sweep me away and take me for space adventures," Renly says. Loras relaxes almost imperceptibly, but Renly can feel it in his hands as they adjust the position of Renly's head.

"Ah, Han Solo," Loras says, mock wistful. "That scruffy-looking nerf herder is responsible for many a sexuality crisis, I'm sure."

"Are you not really into the Harrison Ford type?" Renly asks.

"Hugely," Loras says, and for a second their eyes meet in the mirror again. Renly almost forgets how to breathe; Loras is looking at him like he's interested, but the moment passes and Loras just concentrates on his hair again. "I'm not enormously into Harrison Ford himself, though. Don't know why." He shrugs.

"So uh," Renly clears his throat, "how did you know you were gay? When you were five, if it's okay to ask."

"It isn't usually," Loras says, "but why not. We used to make up stories, me and Margaery, about castles and knights, and she'd play a lady and I'd play a knight. Anyway, one day when I was rescuing her I realised I'd much rather rescue another knight and get a grateful kiss." He blushes. Renly has to stop himself saying _aww_ out loud, it's so cute.

"That's adorable," he says instead, meaning both the story and the blush. Loras goes redder, and Renly thinks, _I want to think of a thousand ways to make you blush_ , then squashes it down.

"Okay, now you have to tell me an embarrassing story from your childhood," he says. "It's only fair."

"Yours wasn't embarrassing," Renly says, "but all right. I don't have any sisters, but I grew up basically with my niece —"

"Your niece?" Loras interrupts, pausing in combing out more of his hair. The scissors hover worryingly close to Renly's ear.

"Yeah. My brothers are thirteen and fifteen years older than me, and Robert was, shall we say, an early starter." Loras goes back to Renly's hair, concentrating on snipping, but with an air of paying attention to everything Renly says. "He's married now, to Catelyn's sister-in-law, but when he was sixteen he knocked up his girlfriend. Since I'm only two years older than Mya, we ended up together a lot. Our birthdays are close together, so we used to have joint parties, and when I was turning seven, we had this big thing at Mya's mum's house. The back door always used to stick, and we were playing British Bulldog out there. And when Robert tried to get out of the house to tell us it was cake time, the door wouldn't budge, so he was shoving it — and he's a lot stronger than me, he's the brawn in our family — and when it did open, it went flying. So he comes out of the house, barrelling into everyone," Loras starts laughing, putting the scissors down, and Renly grins, "and I said, 'Quick, get him, he'll win,' so we all just _piled_ on him." Loras laughs so hard people start looking round at them. "But he shook us off and knocked me over and won anyway. Mya put a crown on him, she was so proud."

Loras snorts, his laughing coming more under control. "Does he always cheat at kids' games?" he says, between bursts of laughter.

Renly can't help laughing too. "Not always. Just when he accidentally runs into them."

Loras's laughter has eased to the point where he can get back to Renly's hair, so he does. "That story wasn't embarrassing either," he points out, grinning.

"It was for Robert," Renly says, and Loras laughs again, then coughs and composes himself, though he's smiling.

"Tell me more about Australia," he says, even though Renly's hair is surely almost finished now. He's combing it all out, checking the ends are even and trimming in a few places.

"It was amazing," he says. "Everyone's relaxed there, unless you're in the corridors of power. I learned how to surf and saw local bands in bars, it was fantastic."

"Sounds brilliant," Loras says, the wistful tone genuine.

"You should go some time," Renly says. "If you can stand the massive spiders, that is. But they're not everywhere like I'd expected."

"I don't mind them," Loras shrugs, "as long as they don't kill me or anything."

"Well," Renly laughs, "I'm still alive."

"I think that's you done," Loras says, checking his hair one last time and reaching for the dryer. Renly has been watching Loras the whole time, not what he's been doing to his hair, and can't even tear his eyes away now. Loras blow-dries his hair, runs some gel through it and says, "There. What do you think?"

Renly looks, and moves his head from side to side as Loras brings out a mirror so he can see the back. He looks _really good_ , his hair just the right length to show off the line of his jaw. "Oh, hey, I look great," he says, grinning.

"You do," Loras says, grinning back. He brushes the bits of cut hair from Renly's shoulders as he takes the gown off him, and Renly stands up. He's a couple of inches taller than Loras, and has a moment of thinking _Perfect kissing height_ before he gives himself a shake and follows Loras over to Arya.

He pays, thinking _Ask him out, go on, ask him out, it looked like he fancies you, go on, ask him._ But there's another customer waiting, so instead he says, "Um, thanks. I'll ask for you next time."

"You do that," Loras says, smiling all the way to his eyes, and then he leads his next customer to the chair. Renly makes a despairing face at Arya, who shakes her head, trying not to laugh.

{__}

Renly keeps unpacking. He updates his facebook with pictures from Australia and of his new haircut. He gets a few comments saying he's looking great, so he recommends Loras to all of them. He goes to work and sees his GP and his dentist and spends a few weekends seeing his family.

He can't stop thinking about Loras. A Cut Above isn't near his work, but he changes his bus route so he goes past it, and every morning and evening, he tries to catch a glimpse of him. He usually doesn't, but one evening, Loras is greeting a new customer as the bus goes past, so Renly sees him for one brief second. It's enough to confirm that his brain hadn't made up how gorgeous he is.

He cracks after three weeks and calls the salon. "You want another haircut?" Arya says, sounding incredulous. Normally Renly loves her bluntness, but this time, he winces.

"Well," he says, "yeah. It's growing out."

"But it should be six — oh. Oh, right. I can get you in with him next week," she says, and Renly doesn't know whether to die of embarrassment or be grateful.

"I won't ask if it's that obvious," he says.

"He's been asking about you," she says, lowering her voice almost to a whisper. "He said you'd mentioned that Robert and Auntie Lyanna are married, so he asked me a bunch of questions about you. He tried asking Sansa, but she didn't say much. I don't think she liked one of her biggest crushes asking about another of them."

"Oh," Renly says. He hadn't known; she's obviously always liked him, since she was a kid, but he hadn't known he's one of her _biggest_ crushes. He makes a mental note to buy her flowers to apologise, then realises that might be a bad idea. "Tell her I'm sorry."

" _Not_ a good idea," Arya says. "Just pretend I didn't tell you that. I thought you'd worked it out."

"Not as such," Renly says. "I am still sorry, though."

"I know. Anyway," her voice goes back to normal, "I can get you in on Thursday at eleven. Is that enough notice?"

"Yeah," Renly says, looking at the boxes he hasn't unpacked.

He's early again on Thursday. Arya tells him about her coursework as Renly watches Loras with his customer. Sometimes he is very grateful that Arya always knows he's listening even when it doesn't look like he is.

Loras looks surprised to see him, so he obviously didn't check his appointments. "Are you looking for a trim?" Loras says, leading him straight over to the sinks.

"Yeah," Renly says. "It's growing out a bit, and I was thinking of maybe having it a bit shorter than before." Loras puts a towel around his shoulders and Renly settles back.

"So what have you been up to since you got back from Australia?"

Renly closes his eyes as Loras turns the water on and starts running his fingers through Renly's hair under the stream. "Oh, you know," he says, "work. Unpacking. Throwing out the plants that died while I was away. I did ask a neighbour to water them, but he must have forgotten."

"What sort of plants?" Loras lathers up his hair with shampoo, working it into every part of his scalp. Renly relaxes in a way he hasn't since the last time Loras did this.

"I had a fern, and two thingies that flower if you treat them right, I can't remember the Latin names. I'm hopeless at plants, I just pick things that won't need too much care and cheer up the flat."

"Fair enough," Loras says. "I'm the same. My sister likes flowers all over the place, but I couldn't handle all the upkeep."

Loras finishes washing his hair and takes him over to the chair. Renly sits down, watching Loras pick up comb and scissors and get to work. "So," Loras says, starting to smile, "what sort of music do you like?"

Renly meets his eyes in the mirror and smiles back. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes." Loras smiles wider and looks back at what he's doing.

"I like rock, mainly," Renly says. "What about you?"

"Rock," Loras nods. Their eyes meet again and Renly smiles. "And other stuff. I like soundtracks and occasionally the incessant Radio 1 will Stockholm me into liking a pop song."

"You poor thing," Renly says, "working in salons."

Loras shrugs. "I can deal with some crap music if it means styling hair for a living."

The haircut is over far too soon. "There," Loras says. It's a bit shorter than it was last time, but not a lot. Renly's about to get up when Loras adds, "Do you want to go for coffee with me some time? Just as friends, I mean," he says, quickly. "I'm not allowed to sleep with customers, which is a shame in your case, but I'd like to get to know you better."

"Yeah," Renly says, a little breathless, his heart sinking. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"I finish early on Tuesday. Is two o'clock too late for you?"

"No, I can swing it," Renly says, glancing at the cut strands of hair on the gown.

"Okay. Pick me up here at two, then," Loras says.

{__}

Renly picks Loras up at just gone two on Tuesday. "Just as friends," Catelyn reminds Loras as they're leaving.

"Yeah, I know. I'll behave." He grins at her and takes Renly's hand to walk out of the salon. As soon as they're on the street, he says, "There's a nice little place not far."

"Okay," Renly says, skin humming from the contact. Loras doesn't drop his hand as they walk. He rubs his thumb along Renly's a few times, and Renly's breath catches.

They stop at the lights. Loras is smiling. "Nice to know you want me as much as I want you," he murmurs, leaning close to say it, running his thumb up and down Renly's slowly.

It takes all of Renly's concentration not to kiss him. "God yes," he says, when he can trust himself to speak.

Loras draws a breath in and takes his hand away. "Might be best if we don't touch," he says. Renly nods.

The cafe Loras takes him to is a sweet little place. Renly orders a coffee with cream and chocolate shavings. Loras gets a plain black coffee and when they sit down, Loras watches as Renly digs a spoon into the cream.

"If this were a date," Loras starts.

"Yeah," Renly interrupts. "If it were a date." He doesn't feel like going over how he'd dab some cream on Loras's nose and kiss it off. Loras nods and looks down, and Renly immediately feels bad. "Sorry. I'm just gutted it isn't."

"You and me both." Loras shakes himself. Almost visibly changing the subject, he says, "It's nice that your work let you take late lunches like this."

Renly hadn't expected to be poked in his sorest place without warning. He sort of nods and stares into the mountain of cream in front of him. The chocolate shavings for a second form a face, and then it's gone.

"Is everything okay?" Loras says. "Sorry, I didn't know it was a —"

"I resigned," Renly says.

"Oh." Loras pauses. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but why?"

Renly for a second is going to tell him he doesn't want to talk about it. But he _does_ , and Loras is so easy to talk to. He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I hadn't told anyone yet. Outside work, I mean. My brothers are going to kill me. Well, Robert might not care, but Stannis has been going on for years about how he'd be better at my job than I am. He'll never let me hear the end of it."

"What a knob," Loras says, vehemently. Renly looks up.

"I couldn't hack it," he says. It all threatens to pour out of him, things he's never told anyone, not even Mya. "That's the truth. I saw some things — Australia really was amazing, I did love it, but I saw what the government is doing to the Aboriginals. I've been to so many places and seen what humans do to other humans, and I can't do it any more. I know that makes me weak, I know I should stay and fight for change and do good things, but I just _can't_ any more."

"Hey." Loras takes his hand and squeezes it. "That doesn't make you weak. It just means you care. You're kind, and you're good, and it's okay to take yourself away from situations like that before you lose sight of who you are."

"Is it?" Renly almost winces at how vulnerable he sounds. He never expected Loras to just _get_ it.

"Of course it is," Loras says, firmly. "It doesn't have to be you who saves the world. You're not the Chosen One." He smiles.

Renly can't help but smile back. He feels on the verge of tears, but keeps them resolutely at bay. "Thank you," he says. He lifts Loras's hand to his lips, and kisses it.

"Any time," Loras says, drawing his hand away. "I'll um, I'll be back in a minute."

His hands are shaking. "Are you okay?"

"If I stay here a second longer, I'll kiss you," Loras says, almost a whisper.

"Oh." Renly watches him go towards the toilets and stares at his cream again.

When Loras comes back, he says, "I just want it on record that I like you more than is good for me, so we can move on to other topics."

"Okay." Renly starts really, properly smiling.

"Although if you end up with cream on your nose I'll have to leave again," Loras says, watching as Renly takes a tentative sip. His coffee has reached a less than scalding temperature, so he takes a gulp.

"I'm afraid it's inevitable," he says, putting the mug down. Loras drops his chin onto his hand and gazes at him. Renly feels his face get hot and wipes the cream off his nose with a napkin.

"Distract me," Loras says, "or I'll quit my job and ask you out for dinner."

"Don't quit, Catelyn would kill me," Renly says.

Loras laughs. "What, nothing about how I shouldn't quit because I'm good?"

"You'd find another job," Renly says. "You're a born stylist, any salon would be lucky to have you. They'd be falling over themselves to hire you. And Catelyn would still be angry at me."

"Wouldn't want that," Loras nods, grinning.

"So how's your family?" Renly drinks some more of his coffee, and for a second when he puts it down, Loras stops talking and just gazes again, until Renly wipes the cream off his nose.

"Margaery's got this new job," he says, "she loves it so far. She's basically running Will's stables now, at least the instruction stuff. Will's the manager, of course. He's mainly on the breeding side, and Margaery trains the show horses. She's starting riding lessons up there soon, she persuaded Will to expand. When I told Sansa about it, she started bugging me about when the lessons would be available. Catelyn said she's been wanting to learn to ride since she was six, but there was never enough time, and they thought there was no point if she couldn't actually have a horse."

"Yeah, she's wanted a pony for ages," Renly says. "I used to get her toy ones for Christmas so at least her dolls could ride them."

"She's probably going to be their first customer," Loras smiles. "I told Margaery about her and she took it as a sign and persuaded Will to get some more horses in, and a couple of ponies, just for the lessons. Well, it's no good using show horses for beginners."

"I imagine not," Renly says. He's barely even seen horses in the flesh, but that does make sense.

"This isn't boring, is it?"

"Of course not," Renly says. "I like hearing about your family."

Loras smiles. "What about yours? You've mentioned Robert the virile brother, and Stannis the git brother. Anyone else?"

"Just uncles and aunts," Renly says. "Our parents died when I was a baby, we were brought up by an assortment of uncles. I'm the only one who still really sees them."

"Oh," Loras says. "I'm sorry."

Renly shrugs. "It's all right. People always feel sorry for me when they find out, but it's not like I know what it's like to be brought up by your parents, so I don't feel like I lacked anything in contrast. Does that make sense?"

"I suppose it does," Loras says, sipping his coffee and looking thoughtful. "Were your uncles nice?"

"Lovely," Renly nods. "I had a happy childhood. I was always surrounded by people, my uncles, my aunts, my niece. I never missed my parents. Just the idea of them."

"You don't know what you've lost if you've never had it?"

"Exactly," Renly nods.

They're half way down their coffees. Renly has started eking his out, reluctant to leave at all. He plays with the cream, dipping his spoon in and piling it up and spreading it out again. "What's been your most disastrous relationship?" Loras asks.

Renly looks up. "Oh, that's easy. In Australia, there was this guy. Deep tan, typical Aussie good looks. He taught me surfing and we had a lot of sex. For about three weeks, before his wife got back from visiting her parents."

"Ouch," Loras says, laughing. "I take it he didn't tell you he was married?"

"Not once," Renly says. He can laugh about it now, but the place where the hurt used to be still gives a phantom throb. "The sex wasn't brilliant either, to tell the truth. Too much beach, the sand got everywhere. You haven't felt pain until you've washed sand out of your arse for three nights running after each time."

"Oof," Loras winces. "I've always avoided beach sex for that exact reason. It never made sense to me that people find it romantic. What's romantic about crabs sneaking up on you and tiny bits of rocks that sometimes hide shards of glass?"

" _Thank_ you," Renly says, sitting back and gesturing. "Everyone else I've told about it has said oh, but sex on the beach must be so romantic. It really wasn't. Not even with the moonlight. I was always worried the tide would come in and bring a jellyfish with it."

Loras shudders.

"So what about your most disastrous relationship?" Renly says. His coffee is almost cold now, so he just eats some of the cream.

"It was with the son of a friend of my dad's. He was older than me, and I was pretty young, so I didn't know what I was doing or what was going on. He treated me like crap, always telling me we had to hide and acting like he was ashamed. He was my first, so I didn't have anyone else to compare him to, but even then I just didn't want to admit he was a shitty boyfriend. He kept lying to me and I just let him. I was so gone over him I'd have let him do anything." He shakes his head. "I was young and stupid. I finally broke up with him when I caught him in bed with a friend of his. Thought I'd never get over it, but then I went to college and realised my life wasn't over. And that the sex was crap and I was worth more than him." He smiles. "I'm cursed with a hard-on for older men. Not much older, just three or four years. That was the only time it turned out that badly, though."

Renly says, "I want to find him and punch him the ear. How old are you?"

Loras laughs. "I have no idea where he is now, my dad was furious with him when I finally told him what was going on. He hasn't let his name come up in our family since. And I'm twenty-six."

"I'm thirty," Renly says, and the sexual tension comes rushing back. He clears his throat and looks away.

"You're pretty young to have had an amazing career like yours," Loras says, after a pause.

"Suppose I am. It hasn't been an enormously long career," he says, "but I did get the job straight out of uni."

"Lucky," Loras says. The tension hasn't quite broken, but it's muted. Renly finishes his cream and wishes this were a date.

Loras walks him to his bus stop. "Mine's that way," he says, pointing.

"Okay," Renly says, hoping he'll linger.

"Thanks for today," Loras says. "I had a good time."

"Me too. Thanks for listening."

"Any time." Loras leans in and kisses his cheek, a quick press of lips that tingles on his skin, and doesn't quite move away. Renly tilts and shifts his head until their mouths are almost touching, and kisses him.

It's soft and hesitant, and only lasts two seconds before Loras breaks it. He steps away from him and says, "I'll see you when you need your hair cutting."

"Yeah," Renly says, his lips still tingling.

{__}

Renly holds out for as long as he can before calling for another appointment. 'As long as he can' turns out to be a fortnight, and Arya almost audibly rolls her eyes when she answers the phone.

"I've half a mind to talk Mum out of her stupid rule," she sighs. "Loras has been annoying about you." In Arya speak, this means Loras has been cute about him. Renly feels warm.

"I just want my hair shorter," he says, but they both know it's an empty protest.

"Fine," she says. "Come in Friday at eleven and don't make cow eyes."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Everyone's annoying lately." There's something else. She pauses, then blurts out, "I got my coursework back. I'm failing."

"Oh, shit, no," Renly says. "Is there anything you can do? Is there anything _I_ can do?"

"Actually, I could use some extra tutoring. You've done this degree and I think I'm just not getting it."

"Have you asked your tutor?"

Arya laughs. "My tutor is never in, and when he is, he has no sympathy for what he sees as slacking."

"What? That's terrible."

"Yeah, well, that's Professor Thorne. I don't think he likes me."

"How about I come over at the weekend? I can take a look at your coursework and see what you need."

"Thank you," she says, sounding almost weak with relief.

"What are uncles for," he smiles.

Loras's eyebrows go up when he sees Renly on Friday. "You can't want it shorter," he says, eyeing Renly's hair.

"Maybe just a tiny bit?"

Loras nods. "A tiny bit, I can do."

When they're settled at the sink and Loras is working his relaxing magic with water and shampoo and his hands, he says, "So how's the job hunt going?"

"It isn't," Renly says.

Loras changes the subject, for which Renly is immensely grateful. "Have you heard about the latest drama from the Starks?"

"No, what drama?" Renly hasn't seen many people in the past two weeks, and Lyanna hasn't said anything.

"Sansa had her first riding lesson," Loras says. "Apparently the minute she saw my sister she fell head over heels. Everyone's still sort of reeling from her coming out."

Renly tilts his head up to look at him. "You're joking. Sansa's bi?"

"Well, bi for Margaery, anyway. I saw Mr Catelyn picking her up for lunch one day, it looks like he's going grey from it."

Renly can't help laughing at hearing Ned called 'Mr Catelyn'. "How has everyone been about it?"

"Surprised," Loras says. "I told her if she ever needs someone to talk to about coming out, she can talk to me, and she has a few times. She's a lovely girl."

"And what about Margaery?"

Loras smiles, finishing up rinsing his hair and coming round to lead him over to the chair. "Oh, she's as gay as I am. She's giving Sansa space to figure herself out, but she fell just as hard for her."

"Well, good. Sansa deserves some love and happiness." Renly watches Loras take the tiny bit off his hair he'd asked for, wishing he could magically grow it longer and spend more time with him. There's a focus in Loras's eyes, when he's cutting hair, that Renly is half way to addicted to.

"So does Margaery," he says. "You should've seen her last three girlfriends, they were awful. I'm glad this time she's gone for a total sweetheart."

And that's it, he's finished. He dries Renly's hair and styles it a bit, but it's so short there isn't much he can do with gel. Renly tries to force himself to ask Loras out while he's paying, but he doesn't want him to have to quit his job.

He knows, by the time he gets home, that he has to get away from temptation.

He gets online and picks a destination at random, books a nice hotel, and texts Mya to let her know he won't be around. He spends three weeks in Rome, wandering around and wishing he were here with Loras and pretending he isn't thinking about him. When he gets back home, he realises he bought six presents for him, and those were the ones he couldn't talk himself out of.

He puts his head in his hands and calls Mya. "Did the holiday work?" she asks.

"No. All my problems were waiting where I'd left them."

"Did you at least help Arya?"

"Yeah. I should let her know I'm home, she can come over."

Mya pauses. "Is she at work right now?"

Renly makes a frustrated noise. "You know me too well."

"Yes, well, someone has to. Don't do it, Renly. You know he can't see you, and you're just torturing yourself. And him."

"I can't help it," he says, feeling like it's being squeezed out of him. "I have to see him, Mya."

She sighs. "At least think about stopping. Leave it for longer. Get work to send you across the world for another six months, _something_."

He still hasn't told anyone, except for Loras. "Talk to you later," is all he says.

He calls the salon. "I'm back," he says, when Arya picks up. "Do you want to come over at the weekend? I can show you my old notes."

"You're a Godsend," Arya sighs. "Thank you. I've had an extension on handing my coursework back, but I'm definitely going to fail this module if I don't get it done soon."

"Sorry I had to go away," Renly says, feeling wretched.

"Not your fault." She pauses. "Wait, you're using the work number. Renly, come on."

"Please?"

She sighs. "There was a cancellation today, for tomorrow at ten. He isn't free for another month after that, so don't even try."

"Just don't have me sectioned yet," Renly says. "I want to see him one more time before the straightjacket."

Arya laughs. "I trust you know you're hopeless."

"Oh yes," he sighs, "I do know."

The minute Loras turns from his previous customer and sees Renly, he shakes his head. "No. I'm not cutting it shorter. It would be more unprofessional of me to sleep with you than it would for me to ruin your hair."

"Well," Renly says, "to be honest, I would rather you'd sleep with me."

Loras sighs. "Come on, I'll wash it. And see if I can do anything about styling it. I enjoy the excuse to touch you as much as you do, but this is getting ridiculous."

"Sorry," Renly says, following him meekly to the sinks, face red.

"Don't apologise. If you were the hairdresser, I'd be doing exactly the same." He drapes a towel over Renly's shoulders, fingers lingering close to his skin. "This has to be the last time, though."

"I know." He forces himself not to say _I just wanted to see you_. Loras smiles at him and turns the water on.

"I am glad you're here," he says, quiet. "And I'm glad you haven't asked me to colour it."

Renly laughs. "You told me not to, so I won't."

"Good man." Loras starts wetting Renly's hair. Renly closes his eyes and just enjoys the sensations.

"So how's Margaery?" he asks. "Sansa looks happy today." He'd watched her as he was waiting, brushing dye into someone's hair like she was painting, beaming the whole time.

"Radiant," Loras says. "The massive bunch of flowers obscuring Arya were from Mags. She likes giving her girlfriends flowers, and it turns out Sansa loves getting them. They're disgustingly happy."

Renly smiles. "Are you jealous?"

"Of course I'm jealous. I'm mad about you and can't do anything about it. Margaery's trying to be good about not rubbing it in my face, but we tell each other everything and I don't want us to drift apart because she feels like she can't talk about her girlfriend."

Renly swallows. "I hope you know I'm mad about you too," he says. Under the water, Loras runs a fingertip over the shell of Renly's ear, a gesture so tender Renly's heart melts. "And it makes sense. Not wanting to drift apart, I mean. With someone who's always come to you with everything, you don't want anything to drive a wedge in that."

"Exactly," Loras says. He sounds like he's smiling. "You always just get me."

"Likewise." Renly's silent for a minute, just daydreaming. Loras is taking his time with the shampoo, lathering twice as much as he needs to, and whenever his hands go near either of Renly's ears, he stops to run a fingertip or the pad of his thumb over the line of it.

"You know, Kings of Leon are playing in a few weeks," Loras says, starting to rinse the shampoo out. "I was going to go with Margaery, but we've only got two tickets and she doesn't want to go without Sansa. They're still in that spend-all-the-time-together phase."

"Are you asking me to go with you?" Renly says.

"Just as friends," Loras says. "Look, you obviously want to see me so badly you'll ruin your hair for it, and I'm not happy about the prospect of waiting a couple of months before I see you again, so our only option is to try to be friends."

"Yeah," Renly says. "Okay, yeah, I can do friends. I think."

Loras finishes rinsing and takes him over to the chair. "Right," he says, getting out the dryer. "Let's see what I can do with this."

Renly watches him work, feeling like his heart is hurling itself at his ribcage. Loras dries his hair, then grabs mousse and spray and starts working his magic. They don't speak, Loras intent on his hair, Renly lost in watching him. By the time he's finished, there's a little more volume, but nothing much is different.

"You haven't left me much to work with," Loras sighs.

"I know. I just — I don't want to go yet," Renly says, quiet. Loras smiles sadly at him.

"I like you too, but you have to. I have another customer waiting."

Renly pays and goes home and sits among his stuff and thinks, _Fuck it, why not kick myself while I'm down_. He opens the first of the boxes from the Embassy.

He's been tripping over them on the stairs since he got back from Australia. First just the ones from there, then the boxes of his stuff he'd brought home when he'd resigned. He'd been tempted to shove them into one of the guest rooms, but those get used a lot, and he doesn't want Stannis — or worse, Shireen — going through them.

He sorts the papers. There's a lot to shred, and he's overdue for sending the strips back to the office. He spends the better part of three days going through everything, strung out on coffee and bad memories. He keeps waking up at four in the morning, unable to go back to sleep.

He takes a break on the second day when Arya comes over; he realises there's a better way to explain the coursework questions to her, and so he does, and she goes home much happier. Either her lecturer doesn't have time to help his students, or he just doesn't care enough to work out how Arya best learns. Either way, Renly concludes, he is an arsehole.

Late on the third day, when he's almost finished with the last box, the doorbell goes. He stumbles a bit on the way down the stairs, reeling from lack of sleep, and when he opens the door Loras is there.

"Catelyn said if you go back to just using Sansa, I can sleep with you," he says.

"What?" Renly blinks at him.

"She said she’d relax the rule about not seeing you if I'm not your hairdresser," Loras says. "I got your address from Arya. Is this a bad time?"

"Sorry, I haven't been sleeping well. Going through Embassy stuff. Come in, I'll make you some tea."

Loras follows him into the kitchen. "Nice place," he says.

"Thanks." Renly fills the kettle on autopilot, switches it on, and drops teabags into two mugs. Then his brain kicks into gear and he says, "Wait, why am I making you _tea_?" He spins around and kisses Loras.

Loras kisses back immediately, sliding one hand into Renly's hair. Renly melts against him and splays his hands on his back. Loras kisses him slowly and deliciously, soft perfect touches of lips with just the right intensity, and Renly feels tingles spread out from his mouth until they fill his entire body.

When the kiss ends, Renly clears his throat and says, "Well. That was, that was definitely worth the wait."

"Yeah," Loras smiles.

"I should, um. I don't have much left to do with the Embassy stuff, is it okay if I finish up?" He doesn’t want it lingering over him, and Loras nods.

"Of course." He hugs him swiftly. "I could make us that tea, and we could talk, if you want."

"Okay, yeah," Renly nods, reluctant to move out of the circle of Loras's arms.

"Or I could blow you and you could get some fucking sleep," Loras says, looking at his eyes. "You really haven't had much, have you?"

"What?" Renly's head is swimming.

Loras smiles. "Okay, thought process. I know how you feel about the Embassy stuff, and you've obviously been dredging it all up for a while. I only saw you a few days ago, and you didn't look like this. Ergo, it's been keeping you up and if I just put you to bed and tell you to sleep, you'll probably lie there worrying all night."

"Okay, this 'you just get me' stuff is getting spooky," Renly says. Loras laughs.

"I figure if I give you an orgasm you'll _have_ to sleep, and I'll stay to make sure you don't fret yourself awake after a few hours. That's what you've been doing, isn't it?"

"Have you had cameras put in my room or something?"

Loras laughs again. "You're pretty easy to fathom, Renly. At least, for me you are. So what do you say?"

"Yes, please, save me from myself," Renly sighs.

Loras hugs him. "I'll take care of you," he says. "You'll find I'm a very caring boyfriend."

"I could do with one of those," Renly grins, and kisses him again.


End file.
